


october 2017

by loonyBibliophile



Series: new traditions (a life for you and me) [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-Relationship, pumpkin patch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 15:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16452770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: “Jug, you’re home!” she glanced up, grinning at him. He nudged off his shoes and started towards her.“So it seems.” he said, smirking and dropped onto the floor beside her. “What’s up, Betts?”“Do you have plans tomorrow? I want to go to the pumpkin patch.”“The… pumpkin patch.” Jughead raised an eyebrow and put his arm across the sofa seat, leaning in to look at Betty’s planner.





	october 2017

Betty was sprawled on the living room floor, a stapled bundle of pages for class and her day planner both spread out in front of her, when Jughead swung the front door of their apartment open.

“Jug, you’re home!” she glanced up, grinning at him. He nudged off his shoes and started towards her. 

“So it seems.” he said, smirking and dropped onto the floor beside her. “What’s up, Betts?”

“Do you have plans tomorrow? I want to go to the pumpkin patch.” 

“The… pumpkin patch.” Jughead raised an eyebrow and put his arm across the sofa seat, leaning in to look at Betty’s planner. 

“Yeah, remember our new traditions? We went to pumpkin patches a few times when I was young, before my parents got super religious, and it was always really fun. Have you ever been?” Betty looked over at him and smiled.

“Can’t say I have. Does this mean we have to go outside?” Jughead pretended to pout, and Betty rolled her eyes at him. 

“Yes, weirdo. But it will be fun.” she reached over and shoved him lightly.

“Fine, fine. But only because you buttered me up with a nice compliment like weirdo.” Jughead winked, pulling Betty into his side. She let out a laugh and leaned on him, shaking her head.

“Okay. Well, get some rest tonight, I’m waking us up at a reasonable hour.” Betty reached up onto the sofa, dropping back against Jughead’s shoulder as she checked the time on her phone. It was just after midnight. “I don’t know how you do these late shifts. It would drive me bananas. Don’t stay up too late, Juggie.” She leaned in again Jughead a quick hug good night. Jughead ruffled Betty’s hair before she stood up to turn in for the night. 

“As you wish. Night, Betts.”

Betty ignored the vague feeling of butterflies in her chest that seemed to be a real problem around Jughead lately, and closed her bedroom door behind her. She had other things to focus on, like brushing her teeth, and picking out an outfit for tomorrow. 

Betty’s alarm went off at nine the next morning, right on time. After she rolled out of bed, pulling a sweater on against the morning chill, she knocked firmly on Jughead’s door across the hall.

“Wake up, Jug.” she called, then continued to the kitchen. 

Routine was where Betty thrived, and her morning routine was probably her favorite. She always woke up plenty early, so she had time to take things slow and easy. She put the kettle on to boil water for coffee, enough for two cups in case Jughead actually woke up, and poked her head into the fridge to contemplate breakfast choices. She wanted to be energized enough to walk around, but she didn’t want to be too full, because chances were good Jughead would talk her into stopping for lunch at some roadside diner on the way home. She pulled a couple of waffles from the freezer, as well as a banana from on top of the fridge and her peanut butter out of the pantry. Sliding the waffles into the toaster without sticking them down yet, Betty picked up her phone, scrolling through the day’s weather and traffic reports. 

When the kettle started whistling, she pushed down the waffles and turned off the stove. She’d already set up the funnel, resting on top of her chosen mug, filter full up with her preferred dark roast coffee. On the counter sat the jar of coffee and a long handled metal table spoon, the pack of filters, and Jughead’s preferred mug. Betty had bought it for him on a trip to Portland for one of her summer internships. It was white, with a blue illustration of a bird and ‘Good Morning, Asshole’ written next to it in the same shade of blue and fancy script. The toaster beeped and popped up her now warm and crisp waffles, and behind her, Betty heard a door open. 

“There’s water for coffee. Should still be hot enough.” she called over her shoulder as she smeared peanut butter onto both of her waffles. Jughead grunted in response, and started loading a filter up with coffee grounds. He picked the funnel up off of Betty’s cup, smiling down at the mug Veronica liked to call ‘a ceramic monstrosity.’ It was meant to be some sort of whimsical animal painted a variety of pastel colors, clearly made by a child or disturbed teenager in a pottery course. They’d found it at a thrift store while shopping for apartment furniture. 

“God, that thing is awful.” Jughead said appreciatively, chuckling quietly. 

“Isn’t it though?” Betty replied with a smile, peeling her banana. “Do you want waffles?”

“Sure.” he said with a nod. Shuffling across the kitchen floor, he pulled two more waffles out of the freezer to hand to Betty, and also pulled the half and half out, plopping it next to her mug for her while she pushed the waffles down. 

“Thanks.” she smiled at him, pouring out of the cartoon into her mug and then adding sugar from Veronica’s fancy porcelain sugar bowl once her coffee was the right color. Jughead carried both their mugs to the dining room table, setting Betty’s down by her usual seat in front of the window. 

“So, where are we going today?” he asked, pulling his phone from the pocket of his sweats. 

“Johnny Sweet’s Corn Maze and Pumpkin Patch. It’s not too far, a little under an hour. I figured we’d spend the morning and early part of the afternoon there and then grab lunch on the way home. 

“Mm, lunch, now you’re speaking my language.” Jughead smirked, taking a long sip of his coffee. Betty rolled her eyes. 

“You are literally eating, right now, as we speak.” She shook her head, taking a bite of banana “I can’t believe your metabolism hasn’t caught up to you yet.”

“I’m a miracle of science.” he mumbled around a mouthful of waffle. 

“Gross.” Betty laughed and stuck out her tongue. 

The rest of the morning passed companionably, the two eating together until Betty left to her room to get dressed. Jughead followed suit soon after, and before the clock hit 10:30 they were buckled into Jughead’s truck, cruising down the rural highway out of the city proper and into the more agricultural areas of the county. After they made it to the farm and secured a parking spot by an apple tree and a very rusty red wagon, Betty promply dragged Jughead by his elbow to a waiting tractor and wagon trailer next to a worn, orange-painted wood sign that read ‘HAY RIDES.’

“What’s the point of a hay ride it we’re not sitting in hay?” Jughead asked as he followed Betty up the wooden steps and into the wagon hitched to the back of a large tractor.

“I, for one,” Betty said, settling onto a wooden bench with a cheap tablecloth stapled to it “am thrilled to not be sitting on hay. I’m in tights, and hay is very itchy.” 

Jughead laughed, nudging Betty with his shoulder. A few other people climbed up into the bed of the wagon, and then the tractor revved its engines and started off across the farm. They both swayed gently as the wagon jerked back and forth on the rough ground. Trees and cheesy Halloween decorations slowly chugged past them.

“I’m also glad they stapled down this tablecloth, this is a very old bench. I don’t need to relieve fourth of July the year I turned thirteen.” Betty added, chuckling. 

“What are you talking about?” Jughead quirked an eyebrow, leaning in with interest. 

“Have I not told you that story?” Betty asked, squinting as she thought “Well, one year when I was still doing dance, I was in a Fourth of July parade with my troupe, and we were sitting in this wooden trailer hooked to a truck when we weren’t dancing. And the wood was untreated and worn like this, and we were all wearing spandex, so of course I got splinters in my butt. Trust me, not a life experience you want twice.” 

“That is fascinating, Cooper.” Jughead laughed, smiling at her warmly. 

“The very next year good old Hal Cooper decided dance was ‘inappropriate’, so I stopped doing it. I wasn’t all that upset, it was never my favorite extracurricular.” Betty shrugged, staring out at a seemingly endless cornfield. 

“I thought religious people wanted their daughters to do lady-like things, like dancing.”Jughead furrowed his eyebrows. Betty’s parents’ rules had never made much sense to him. 

“Oh, they do, but not jazz dance, that’s too sexual.” Betty rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t think anyone should be seeing anything a thirteen year old does as sexual but, okay I guess.” Jughead made a face and Betty laughed, smiling at him and throwing an arm around your shoulder. 

“Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” she let out a sigh, and leaned her head on Jughead’s shoulder. 

“You know, I’ve been wondering. If your parents were so religious, why did they let you celebrate Halloween?” Jughead stretched his arm out, putting his hand on the bed of the wagon, behind Betty. He looked down at her to watch her speak as she answered, ignoring the swoop in his stomach at the sight of her head on his shoulder, and the soft flutter of her lashes against her freckled, pink cheeks. 

“A valid question.” she said quietly, chuckling “Not celebrating holidays would have made us stand out too much, so we celebrated all of them, but we had very strict rules around Halloween about what we were allowed to dress as, the kind of activities we were allowed to do, stuff like that.” 

“That’s really weird for me to think about. The fact that your parents were so strict, I mean. My parents weren’t ever around enough to care what shit I was getting into. Meanwhile, you could barely breathe without yours staring over your shoulders. Both of us have such garbage parents in completely different ways.” Jughead said thoughtfully, directing his gaze to partially tilled field of pepper plants. 

“Then you have Veronica’s parents, or even Cheryl’s. There are so many different ways to be a terrible parent; it’s truly astonishing.” Betty said with a slightly bitter laugh. 

They let the conversation fade away as the tractor chugged back to the front of the farm. Jughead stepped down on the rickety stairs first, holding out a hand to Betty to help her balance as they made their way back to the hay speckled ground. For a moment, they left their hands clasped, unnoticed, swinging softly between them as they walked towards the actual pumpkin patch. When Jughead finally let go, Betty let herself drift behind him slightly, to hide the smile and dusting of a pink blush on her face. 

“Oh my god,” Jughead said, stopping suddenly and pointing off to the right “ we totally have to go through.”

In the direction Jughead’s pointing is a rickety barn, covered in a mix of real and fake spiderwebs, and a giant hand painted sign that read ‘Sweet’s Haunted Barn’.

“Haunted houses were definitely on the Cooper Family’s list of banned Halloween activities.” Betty said, looking warily at the barn in the distance. Jughead turned to her, gaping. 

“You’ve never been through a haunted house? Betty, there was a haunted house on campus last year! Kevin _worked_ the haunted house. How have you never been through a haunted house? Come on, let’s go.” Jughead had a determined look in his eyes as he clasped Betty’s hand again, dragging her in the direction of the barn. She stumbled after him, silent and feeling nervous. Anything spooky or occult was very firmly not allowed in the Cooper household, and Betty had continued to avoid them even after moving out. Since she’d never watched horror movies or done scary things growing up, she always assumed she’d be too afraid of them now for them to be any fun. 

“Okay…” Betty said, her voice trailing off cautiously. Jughead put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. 

“Don’t worry, Cooper. I’ve got ya.” Jughead smiled, and Betty relaxed slightly into his side. 

Behind the barn door was a heavy black cloth they had to step through, to block out the light of day. From there, a series of signs and environmental clues sent them through a series of rooms and hallways that had been built into the barn. Betty started the adventure with a brave face, but after the first spooky sound effect followed by the flash of a strobe light, she’d shrieked and hidden herself behind Jughead, her hands fisted in his jacket as she peeked over his right shoulder. Jughead, glad Betty was behind him, flushed slightly and smiled, squaring his shoulders to try and make Betty feel even safer. You’d have to hold him at gunpoint to make him admit it, but he had kind of been hoping she’d cling to him, it’s why he suggested the haunted house in the first place. It felt sort of juvenile, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain when Betty kept ahold of his arm, even after they made it through the harrowing final chamber with the evil nun and back out into the October sunlight. 

“That was terrifying.” Betty said, shaking off a shiver “I’m never letting you make a Halloween related decision again.” 

“What about movies?” Jughead wheedled, pouting at her playfully. She giggled, and his heart soared. 

“Okay, okay, other than movies.” she rolled her eyes and draped her arm through his, linking their elbows. “Now, let’s go choose pumpkins.”

If holidays are always like this for most people, Jughead thinks to himself, watching Betty struggle to lift up a particularly large and bumpy pumpkin and heft it into their wheelbarrow, maybe he could start to understand why they were such a big deal. 

“It’s gonna be the creature from the black lagoon!” Betty shouted over at him, pointing excitedly at the green pumpkin she’d finally wrestled into the bed of hay and old leaves. Jughead laughed, jogging across the field from where he’d been staring at a stack of weird looking gourds. 

“You’re a genius, Betts. Now I gotta think of something even cooler.” he smirked, and Betty stuck out her tongue, leaning on the handles of the wheelbarrow. 

“The blob is definitely within your artistic abilities.” Betty said seriously, leveling a glare at Jughead. He snorts. 

“Ouch, Cooper. Side note, we are totally watching The Blob when we get home.”

“Only if it’s the 1954 version.” Betty said, making a face. Jughead put a hand to his chest, looking dramatically aghast. 

“I’m horrified you would think I meant anything else.” he wiggled his eyebrows at her, and leaned down to pick up a giant, perfectly orange and round pumpkin he’d been eying. “Can’t go wrong with the classics.” he said, shrugging, when Betty raised a skeptical eyebrow at his relatively conventional choice. 

“True. Okay, let’s check out and get to a restaurant so you can eat before you turn into Mr. Hyde instead of Doctor Jekyll.” Betty said playfully, sticking her tongue out at Jughead again before running off through the field, leaving Jughead chasing after her, lugging the wheelbarrow with both of their pumpkins behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> here's our halloween/october fic! coming soon to an ao3 near you: thanksgiving!


End file.
